Tonight, I watched Addy tentatively step out onto a dance floor of kids she didn't know, all of whom were already friends. I think as a parent its hard to let go, and allow your kids the learning opportunity of uncomfortable things like rejection, or feeling left out, etc. After all, as a parent your job is to protect, comfort, care for and love them. It is only natural to want to shield them from being hurt, be it physically or emotionally. But the reality of it is we won't always be there to keep them from those things-and even if we were, these experiences are a part of life and character building-hopefully the kind will allow them to be the kid who reaches out and prevents others from going through the same thing, since they've been there and know how it feels.


I want my kids to be able to function and handle their problems for the days that I'm not their to hold their hands. I also want them to know to what source they can turn to for comfort, help, validation and support after the fact, while still being able to take pride knowing that they did what they could, and they learned from it.

Watching her walk out there, nervous-excited; seeing her take off her sweater because she wanted to show all the other kids her Minnie shirt she loves, and dance with them and make friends was hard for me bc I knew they we're all pretty happy with their own friends and definitely were not wanting more. It was hard knowing that even though she typically starts out shy, she wanted to put herself out there, and that as a result of that she was opening herself up to potentially being rejected or embarrassed. But I also know that as small as it was, this was something I needed to let her do so she could walk away from it either with new friends, or with a knowledge of where to turn whenever she needs help, comfort, or reassurance, because this surely won't be the last time. A place like family-where she can walk away feeling confident in who she is and the incredible, amazing things she has to offer the world as a whole. Because she truly is something to be marvelled at-something that I stand in awe of daily. These kids, and the world would be lucky to know her.

But still, even though I knew all these things, I couldn't help but watch from a distance as she stood outside the circle of kids, clearly debating on going closer or turning around. I wanted to go scoop her up and say 'No, play with me instead!' or 'We'll schedule a play date with your friends first thing tomorrow girlfriend!' but I didn't. Hard as it was, and as silly as Lester thought I was, I held back and waited.

In the end I was right. The kids [who really are just kids, and weren't mean in any way I should specify] weren't looking for new friends and seemed kind of confused as to why Addy was there, in their space. But while I anticipated this, I in know way anticipated her little sweet little sister.

Right when I was ready to burst, seeing her looking sad and searching for me in the crowd, Lola walked Isla out towards Addy who immediately recognised her and cracked the biggest, most relieved and happy smile you could imagine. She ran to her, and Isla mirrored her smile, let go of Lola's hand and ran over to Addy. The two of them then proceeded to hold hands, move to the middle of the dance floor, and sway together, hand in hand for about a half and hour-even after the music stopped playing.



Suddenly, the big group of kids with all their friends didn't exist-it didn't matter if Addy couldn't hang with them, or if Isla wasn't part of their group-they had each other and that was enough. They had exactly what they needed to make a great time, and to ease all my concerns away. There was no need for Mom or Dad to step in to console, because our family includes sisters, who are already there for each other. Like Lilo says-nobody gets left behind, or forgotten in our ohana.

I know that my kids won't always need me as much as they do now. I know I sometimes complain when I feel stretched pretty thin and like I can't possibly meet everyones needs-but I also know that these times are fleeting, and when they pass I will yearn for them. The funny thing is I know no matter how much they need me, I need them just as much if not more. Despite being a novice in the ways of parenthood, I feel like even when life is hard, my kids can feel that even if they don't belong anywhere else in the world [like with those kids on the dance floor] they belong do belong with us, in our family. I hope they can feel that this is their safe place from the winds, rains and realities of a sometimes harsh world. I hope Lester and I can provide them with the tools they need to get through those days to make it to the rainbow that awaits them ahead. I'm so grateful they have each other, and that Lester and I get to be along for the ride.

I know I'm no where near a perfect parent, but I am trying and I hope my kids will always know how much I love them and how hard it was for me to not take over and prevent their scrapes or heart aches. I hope they can look at their lives someday and understand why I let them go through hard things sometimes, and they can see how it made them better people. I hope they also remember the band aids we applied, the kisses and cuddles we doused them in, how they became stronger when we made them try again, and the home they always have wherever they go in the world. I know there will be a million far harder moments then this silly little dance floor one in their futures, and I'm sure Lester will have to hold me back at times, but at least they will know how much we cared and that it was for a good reason.

I love you my girls. So so much.